


Do You Need Help With Running Your Bar? Eight Simple Principles To Run A Successful Bar, Pub, Restaurant or Nightclub Business

by DJClawson



Series: Theodore Nelson's Adventures in Sharing a Workspace [16]
Category: Daredevil (TV), Luke Cage (TV)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Avengers Sex-ceptions, Bisexuality, Breaking Up & Making Up, Cats, Closeted Characters, Despite all these tags there's very little sex in this, Did everyone just forget Luke used to be married, Everyone Is Poly Because Avengers, Explicit Discussion of Limits, F/M, Foggy Nelson Is a Good Bro, Gore, Homosexuality, I think people did, It's mostly drunken comedy, M/M, Masochism, Non-Explicit Sex, Past Matt Murdock/Elektra Natchios, Safewords, Semi-anonymous hookups, Threesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-19
Updated: 2019-03-21
Packaged: 2019-11-24 20:27:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18169547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DJClawson/pseuds/DJClawson
Summary: Even Theo has limits, and an ever-expanding friend list of superheroes who will give him booze.





	1. Foggy's No Good, Super Bad Day

**Author's Note:**

> First off, thank you to LachesisMeg for her beta work!
> 
> Couple things:  
> \- This story doesn't contain any explicit sex, but it comes about as closs as I'll come to it, with a discussion of safewords, limits, and masochism at the beginning of the fic. (The rest is rather tame) So trigger warning for all of that.  
> \- This fic ran long, and has several POV changes, so I split it into two chapters for flow purposes and to get the earlier section posted faster. Don't worry - the second chapter is with my beta and will be up in a few days. But please, don't let that stop you from leaving comments.  
> \- For those of you who left prompts, I'm working on them, and I teased one of them here. Everyone else is welcome to submit if there's something you want to see.

If there was one thing Theo couldn’t handle, it was blood in the wrong place. The cutting room? No problem. Congealing on the bottom of the plate for an extra rare steak he watched someone eat? As long as they didn’t lick it up. On his fingers at work? It meant he did something wrong, but it was never anything too serious, and they had a well-stocked first aid kit. 

In the bedroom?  _ Fuck no _ .

“This is blood,” Theo said, taking a moment to process the liquid on his hands. The lights were low, but not out, but sex was messy, so he hadn’t noticed when he should have. He looked down and said, “Fuck, you’re bleeding!”

“Popped my stitches,” Matt managed to say, but otherwise he could barely string words together. “Green.”

Theo didn’t want to say anything about his sheets or his towel. It was in the back of his mind, not the front of it. “It’s not green, this is not green. This is red.” He wasn’t referring to the color of his hand, or the liquid accidentally smeared across Matt’s chest because things were messy in the heat of the moment, and Matt hadn’t fucking said anything when he popped his stitches.

“Fine, yellow,” Matt said, safewording a second time. “Just - don’t stop.  _ Please _ .” He was begging, and it was supposed to be sexy. He was bleeding and he was somehow still in the moment. 

“No Matt. Red. Really fucking red.” Because his body was  _ completely _ done - he didn’t think he had ever wound down so quickly from such amazing sex. “It’s done. It’s over. You’re  _ bleeding _ .”

He scrambled out of bed and put on a robe, because he wasn't an exhibitionist like Matt. He looked around the room and grabbed the whole roll of paper towels off its dowel and pressed it against Matt’s lower torso.

“Please - “

“No, Matt. Finish yourself off if you need to, then we’re fucking handling this.”

Matt had popped his stitches. There weren’t a lot of them, but any amount was more than Theo knew how to deal with. They would have to call someone, or go to the hospital, or some clinic. Until Matt, who seemed to be coming around to the change in mood, said, “First aid kit. In my bag.”

Theo had things like bandaids and Bactine and Neosporin, but he wasn’t equipped like Matt was. The bag Matt kept at his place had a tackle box of first aid supplies - bandages, medical tape, even a motherfucking stapler, and Theo felt sick just thinking about Matt using that on  _ himself _ . He couldn’t handle it when Matt Damon did it in a movie. 

“Are you in pain?” he said, noticing the little bottle of tylenol.

Matt sat up, still holding the roll to his wound, and said, “No.” It was the most obvious lie he had ever told.

“Christ, Matt - were you in pain when I was - “

“It’s fine. It was fine.”

“That’s not fine, that’s - “ - Not the priority right now, he realized. He found Matt’s boxers and helped him get them on because Matt’s hands were busy, then dragged him to the bathroom along with one of his two kitchen chairs. The light was bright and harsh and when Theo set the first aid kit on the closed toilet seat, Matt removed the bloodied towels, and Theo saw the wound, and the torn stitches sticking out, and the way Matt was sitting, his lower torso protruded just a bit and Theo could see into living flesh and see Matt’s  _ insides _ -

And the toilet seat was taken, but Theo managed to vomit into the sink.

Matt didn’t say anything as Theo struggled to recover except, “Deep breaths. You’re going to be fine.”

_ I’m going to be fine you’re the one who’s bleeding _ \- but Theo didn’t say any of that. He rinsed out his mouth and said, “You need to go to a hospital. Or at least an urgent care clinic.”

“I can handle it.” Matt held up fishing wire - motherfucking fishing wire - that had been stored in the kit. “I’ve done this before. To other people and myself. It’s in the front, so it’s fine. But if you have any whiskey, I would appreciate it.”

He was so fucking calm and Theo was so fucking not, but he did get the whiskey. He gave it to Matt and then turned his back on him, because there was no way he was watching Matt sew himself up like an aged stuffed animal. 

“I’m sorry,” Matt said as he worked. “I’ll replace your towels and sheets.”

“It’s not about the fucking sheets,” Theo said, but he kept his simmering anger down while Matt worked. 

This was unfortunate because until this moment, the week had been going super duper well. Matt had been benched by a combination of sub-zero temperatures, an ice storm, and a cold that had knocked out his sense of smell and filled his head with mucus, as he put it when asked to explain (by Foggy, of course) how a powerful super vigilante like Daredevil couldn’t fight because of a minor cold. Foggy was only half-mocking him, and they were all relieved. And it went without saying that it gave Matt freer nights and energy to spare. Theo even went to see him box in that horrible old gym, and G-d, it was so fucking hot he would have fucked him right then and there if the place wasn’t condemned by the sanitation department, with posters everywhere to remind him. 

So, yeah. Things were pretty excellent. Matt and Foggy had clients, of course, and they had a trial coming up - and the defendant was a pawn shop owner and said if they got the charges dropped, he would give Foggy the best ring he had as payment. Theo felt like Matt should have been promised something, but Matt said his special watch worked just fine.

“And I know you love yours,” Matt said. “You never take it off. Is it even water resistant?”

“It is, but the calculator doesn’t work anymore. It worked for about ten minutes.” 

But Matt knew he loved that watch without him ever mentioning it, and Theo loved that about him. 

“Do you want me to buy you something nice?” Matt asked playfully.

“Nah. But I wouldn’t mind doing my laundry at your place so I don’t have to keep hoarding quarters.”

Matt shook his head. “You’re so difficult sometimes.”

Theo considered himself a pretty accommodating lover. That was what Dan Savage said to do, so Theo tried all kinds of things over the years that he wasn’t necessarily interested in, to mixed results. It actually took him years to work up the courage to say, “No, I really don’t like this and I won’t do it” and be willing to kick someone to the curb - or out of a bathroom stall, whatever - if they kept insisting. And Matt didn’t insist. He suggested, he asked questions, he waited patiently after planting a germ in Theo’s head. He made it clear Theo could say no at any time. And only Matt could make a conversation about consent sexy. It must have been something from the radioactive chemicals in that truck. 

As soon as Matt’s cold was gone, he was back on the streets, which had included the night before. And he couldn’t help getting injured.

So what had just happened was - Theo wasn’t sure. He waited patiently for Matt to finish his self-surgery, then came back with the neosporin and cleaned Matt up with a towel, because Matt couldn’t see himself, and also, worryingly, he didn’t seem to care. The site still looked nasty - and bruised. Matt was bruised.

“Fucking hell, I hurt you,” Theo said.

“You didn’t.”

“I can see my finger marks, they’re still red - Matt, I  _ hurt _ you.” He took a deep breath. “What did I fucking say, when we agreed to this? What was the one thing I refused to do?”

Matt’s eyes drifted down shamefully. “You didn’t want to hurt me.”

“And because you think you can take a lot of pain, I said I wasn’t cool with that, and what did you promise?”

“To tell you if you were hurting me,” Matt recited, like a naughty schoolboy. And not the sexy kind. “But it’s okay, you weren’t - “

“Were you getting off on it?”

Matt paused. There was a sound but it wasn’t a formed word. Matt was usually not speechless. 

“Fuck,” Theo said. “Matt, I want you to tell me the truth - I know you like fighting, and I know you like hurting criminals. But do you like being hurt? Is that ... is that part of the reason you do it?”

Matt lowered his head further and said, “It’s complicated.”

Theo folded his arms across his chest and waited.

“I don’t - it’s not like that, it’s not sexual,” Matt said. “I’ve been fighting all my life. I don’t - I can’t explain, but it’s a part of me.”

Theo wiped his face, and not because he was tearing up. “It can’t be a part of ...  _ this _ . Us.” 

“I know.”

“Clearly you fucking don’t, or you would have stopped me, like I asked you too. Like I begged you to.” Because Theo had put his foot down on that. “You - you get off on it, but I don’t. I can’t. I can’t do this. I don’t even like how often you’re hurt - I can’t be the one to hurt you. I can’t - “ All of the blood that had been elsewhere tonight was rushing to his head and it felt swollen and his ears were pounding without noise. He couldn’t look at Matt’s hangdog expression. Theo swallowed back a sob and said. “I need to think.”

“Okay.”

“Without you. Here. Right now.” He couldn’t believe he was saying it, but he was. “You need to go.”

“Theo, please.” Matt reached out to him, and tried to take his hand, but Theo avoided it. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. It won’t happen aga - “

He didn’t care if Matt was telling the truth. He didn’t doubt that Matt was truly sorry. He just said, “If you care about me, you’ll give me my space. So go. Get out.”

“Are you - “

“I said get out!” Theo screamed, surprising even himself at the intensity and volume. “ _ Get out get out get out! _ ”

And Matt did. Theo covered his face because he didn’t want Matt to see - even though he couldn’t, he knew that - him crying. He muffled his sobs and listened to Matt gather up his things and pause at the door. He wanted to say something, but thank G-d, he didn’t. He just left.

He was gone. Matt was his boyfriend and he was gone because Theo had thrown him out, he had thrown out the best thing in his life, and he couldn’t stand anymore, and slid down to the bathroom floor and leaned against the wall. He wanted to throw up again, not because he was nauseous, but because he felt like he had been kicked in the stomach. 

Sadie howled - actually howled - from her position in the tub, where she was probably sleeping when they came in. She sprang out of it and hissed at him, pacing back and forth on the tile floor. She must have picked up on the energy in the tiny room and she didn’t like it one bit, and this was her contribution.

“Oh, Sadie. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he said between sobs. He felt so fucking bad for his fucking cat. “I shouldn’t have yelled, we shouldn’t have fought - I didn’t want to fight him. I don’t want to fight anybody.”

But that’s what it had been. A fight. Mostly in one direction, but there was yelling, and accusations, and admissions, and apologies that could not be accepted, and Theo wanted to curl up on the floor and just die but Sadie was clawing at his robe. He picked her up and pulled her close to him, and she did not like that one bit, but he didn’t care. “Please, just this once, don’t tear my skin off. Or do.” Maybe he deserved it. He buried his face in her fur, and she dug her claws into his leg, but the robe took most of the damage. And she’d stopped howling. “I’m so sorry.” 

And he just kept sobbing, and she squirmed, but she didn’t bite and she didn’t leave him, and that was good enough.

  
  


Foggy hated working Saturdays, especially in the morning, when good people were asleep and even other lawyers were asleep, especially after a week in court. But because Nelson and Murdock had their schedules slammed by court hours, all other meetings - potential clients, ongoing investigations, documentation analysis, etc - had to be squeezed into the weekends. And they really needed to win this case so Foggy could get that ring.

He met up with Matt on the East Side, in a coffee shop near a client’s home. Meeting someone at home gave a personal touch and avoided discussing important things in the backroom of a deli. 

And it was the East Side, so the coffee was overpriced, even for coffee. So things weren’t going great, and then Matt said, “Can you check in on Theo for me?”

“Why? Is he sick?”

“Um, no.” Matt fiddled with his tie, smoothing it out, his tell that he was nervous. “It’s probably nothing, but he might, um - can you just do it?”

Foggy set his coffee down and said. “Now I definitely have to know.”

“... we might have had a little fight.”

“What?” Foggy demanded. “ _ What? _ Matt, don’t you lie to me, how big was this fight?”

If Matt could have hidden under the table, he would have. “He said to give him some space.”

“Fuck, Matt. What did I  _ tell you _ about breaking my brother’s heart?”

“I didn’t break his heart - it wasn’t like that.” Matt was not the most convincing liar in the world. “We didn’t break up. He just said he needed space. To clear his head. And I’m trying to give him space.”

“So you want me to do your dirty work?”

“I assume you would just do it out of concern for him. Not - that you should be concerned.” 

“Fuck you,” Foggy said, but he was already dialing. Theo didn’t pick up until Foggy was sure it was about to go to voicemail. “Hey. So, I’m not going to invent a pretense for why I’m calling you. How are you doing?”

“What?” It was hard to get a read on Theo from one word. “Um, I dunno.” There was the sound of sloshing in the background. “Starting to feel better, I guess.” Yes, definitely sloshing. Like someone drinking straight out of a bottle.

“Are you  _ drunk? _ ”

“It’s nine in the morning!” Theo spat back. “Give me some time. I had to open shop first. There’s so many keys. And I hope Matt didn’t fuckin’ tell you anything. That shit is private.”

“He just says you fought. And you should stop drinking.”

“Relax. It’s a cheap forty. It’ll take me like, forever to get drunk on this.”

“I’m coming over there.”

“I don’t know why. You don’t know how to make sandwiches.”

“It’s meat and some bread!” He sighed. “I’m on my way.” He hung up the phone and gave Matt a glare he hoped he could feel every bit of. “I’m going.”

“What about splitting up the work?”

“You’re taking my half,” he said, not leaving room for argument. “I’ll try to catch up with you later. But we’ll see.”

“Foggy - “

But he was already out of the door. The crosstown bus could not get there fast enough. Because it was Manhattan, it still took an hour, door to door, before he was in Nelson’s Quality Meats, to see Deon, the new employee, behind the register. They didn’t serve lunch on Saturdays, only filled orders, so it was minimal staff, but Deon wasn’t usually upfront.

“Hey Mr. Nelson.” That was how new he was. He still called him ‘Mr. Nelson.’

“Hey Deon,” Foggy said, trying to sound casual. “Where’s Theo?”

“Filling orders in the back.”

Okay, not totally unusual, but their roles were usually reversed because Theo was sort of the face of the store and there was more accounting to do in the front. Foggy set his briefcase down and found Theo in the cutting room, staring at the orders on a clipboard in front of him like they were in Egyptian.

“Hey,” Foggy said, alerting Theo to his presence.

“Hey,” Theo said. There was no booze around, but his face was flush and he was definitely flustered by the complexity of his work. “Don’t you have lawyer stuff?”

“Didn’t Pop always say never to operate the meat slicer under the influence?”

Theo gestured to the industrial machine on the counter behind him. “‘Snot working.” 

Foggy looked at the slicer. It was unplugged. “I thought maybe you could use some help.”

“I don’t need help. I am capable of doing this job all by myself,” Theo replied, not in a nasty way, but definitely undermining his declaration with his tone. “What are you doing here? You can’t even work in those clothes. You’ll stain them.”

“I’m ... looking out for you?” But he knew he was next to worthless in a kitchen. “I’m texting Karen. This is an emergency.”

“It’s not an emergency.”

“Breaking up with Matt is an emergency.”

“We didn’t  _ break up _ ,” Theo said. “You don’t see me getting a shitload of new cats, do you?”

“Wait, what?”

“Trust me, you don’t know want to know what it was about  _ anyway _ ,” Theo said. “I just ... need to think.”

“While drunk?”

“Psssh. This is not me drunk.” This was probably a little true. He was still standing. “See?” He held up the biggest butcher knife they had. “I would not be handling this if I was drunk.”

“Hey!” Foggy said, stepping back. “So, Matt. Let’s go in the back room and you can tell me all about whatever shitty thing he did.”

“Oh man, you do not want to know,” Theo said, and probably meant it, but that didn’t stop Foggy from essentially pushing him into the backroom. 

“Let’s get you some coffee. Karen’s on her way.”

“Coffee doesn’t sober you up. That’s a myth,” Theo said. “And I don’t want to be sober anyway.”

“I thought you said you weren’t drunk.”

“There’s in-between stages!”

Foggy sat Theo down at the table and turned on the coffee machine anyway. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but if you don’t want to leave the shop, why don’t I at least go to your place and get your vape pen?”

“No,” Theo said firmly, staring down at the table. “When I’m upset, it makes me paranoid. I need booze.”

Foggy spotted the empty Forty bottle in the recycling bin and said, “How about some juice? Orange? One of those terrible vegetable juices you’re always trying to get me to drink? I’ll split one with you.” At Theo’s non-response, he even went to the fridge and retrieved one. “Beet juice? Sure, why not. This doesn’t look disgusting at all.” He poured it into two whiskey tumblers, set one in front of Theo, and clinked against it. “ _ Sláinte _ .” Then he swallowed the unholy foulness and his whole body rejected it, struggling to keep it down. “Ugh! How can you drink this?”

Theo finally smiled. “It’s Karen’s.”

“What? Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Wanted to see if you were man enough for it,” Theo said, downing it in a single gulp. “Not the best I’ve had. This whole brand is crap.”

“Don’t tell Karen that when she gets here and helps me with the orders because we both know I can’t be trusted with a kitchen knife.”

“I can do it.”

“Maybe when you sober up,” Foggy said as he sat across from him, but not until after he’d stolen Matt’s diet soda to get the taste out of his mouth. 

“We shouldn’t make Karen help.”

“Yeah, and Matt shouldn’t have done - whatever he did. Unless it made you realize his true nature, and you kicked him to the curb, which you should have in that case.”

Theo put his hands over his face. “You can’t - you can’t break up with him because of me.”

Foggy was amused and didn’t comment on Theo’s phraseology. “Trust me, I cannot dissolve Nelson and Murdock until we at least win this case. And if you are getting back together, you need to stay together until after the wedding, or break up way ahead of it, because Marci and I can’t handle that drama. We need like, a month on each side.”

“I have played it cool in front of people you don’t even  _ know about _ ,” Theo said. “And I’m gonna be in the kitchen anyway.”

“You’re not gonna be in the kitchen.”

“The fuck do you mean?”

“I mean,” Foggy said, “that my  _ brother _ and possibly best man if Matt doesn’t pull himself out of this is not going to be working at my own wedding. And don’t tell me you’ll hire people. You don’t know how to delegate. We’re hiring a caterer and that’s that. You want to give us a gift? Help us cut a good deal with someone.”

“Does it have to be kosher? Or kosher-style? I know some people.”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Foggy said. “I still have to ask her, she has to say yes, and we have to spend two years planning. That’s plenty of time to get over whatever ...  _ this _ is.”

“I don’t want to get over him,” Theo said. “I like him - I really like him. He’s just - he’s kind of fucked up.”

“Yeah, I’ve noticed.”

“No,” Theo said, his voice going quiet. “I think - I think he gets off on being hurt. Which - it’s not that I should kinkshame him, I’m not supposed to do that, but I can’t handle it.”

“Aaaand we’re gonna find more booze,” Foggy said. “You can’t have gone through it all.” He got up and opened the fridge for another look. There was nothing, but there was the half-empty bottle of Jameson’s on top of the freezer. “Oh thank G-d.”

“You’re such a pussy.”

“You’re such a person who’s saying things I can’t handle right now and don’t want to think about.” He poured himself a healthy glass, and Theo just a little bit. “So maybe don’t - you don’t have to tell me about that part of it. And you don’t have to put up with that shit if you don’t want to.”

“But I  _ like _ him,” Theo whined. “Even Sadie likes him. That’s how fuckin’ likable he is.”

“Sadie likes him?”

“She lets him pet her. It’s like a solar eclipse. That’s how rare that is.” Theo emptied his glass and slammed it down a little too loudly. “I haven’t been in a lot of relationships.”

“Um, okay.”

“I mean, like, been with people where it lasted a long time. Or more than like, twenty minutes.”

“Okay, gross - “

“So I don’t have a lot of experience. And I would always freak out about getting caught - And it was complicated. Being with Matt is just so ... nice. It’s really nice. It makes me happy.”

Foggy decided not to dwell on the fact that Theo could have told him years ago - that was in the past, and Theo had his reasons for thinking he couldn’t. “Other people will make you happy, if you don’t want to put up with Matt’s shit.” He did sigh with relief when he heard Karen come in. “Hey.” 

“Hey.”

“I need a big favor,” Foggy said, and took her aside and gave her the briefest rundown he could give her. He took it surprisingly well - she was a professional. “We just need to get the bulk of the orders put together and I think we’re good. I just don’t want Theo near any knives.”

“Okay, but I’m not working in this.” She gestured to her business clothes. “Theo, I’m taking one of your jackets! I’m tired of getting blood out of blouses.”

But she did know how to work the register and the meat slicer, and make sense of the order forms, and between the two of them and Deon they were able to package up more or less everything. Theo had resumed drinking and didn’t try to intercede. They did have to sober him up to use the saw when they ran out of pre-cut ribs, which he proved more than capable of doing in his diminished state. If anything, working gave him purpose, and restored the authority he had over the place. 

How Theo traded in delicious sandwiches for salads and bad smoothies but didn’t flinch when slicing through bone, Foggy would never know. They gorged themselves on homemade salami while he made himself yet another kale protein shake with almond milk in the blender designated for his personal use. He just didn’t normally put vodka in it. 

“Crap,” he said, sipping his latest concoction. “I forgot I bought this shit to go with Red Bull. Deon!” he called in his employee and handed him a twenty. “Get me Stolichnaya from around the corner. He doesn’t card.”

Foggy took the money out of his hands before Deon could reach it. “And no, we will not be doing that. Deon, why don’t you take lunch before any more terrible decisions are made?”

“Yes, sir,” Deon said, and was out of there. The bells on the doors would alert them to any customers, and Karen and Foggy had aprons on to handle the register.

“So should I ask what you fought about?” Karen asked Theo.

“No, absolutely not, you should not do that,” Foggy interrupted. 

“And you should have his back!” Theo said to Karen. “He’s got yours.”

“What do you mean?”

“He won’t tell us about the guy you’re seeing,” Theo explained. “And we know he knows.”

“Who says I’m seeing anyone? Did Matt tell you that?”

“We pieced it together,” Foggy admitted. “And we cornered him about. Because, you know, he’s Matt. But he wouldn’t say who it was.”

“It’s some guy named Pete,” Theo said. “Works in construction. Karen brought him lunch.” He sipped his terrible shake. “Matt denied that, too.”

“Um, this is my personal life, and I would appreciate it if you stay out of it,” Karen said, appropriately affronted.

“Sorry,” Theo said, and he did sound a little sorry. “I’m saying, he has your back. He’s a good guy - aside from all the fucked up psycho stuff. And I’m probably gonna make up with him because I don’t want to start looking for someone new and even though I know all of these superheroes now, none of ‘em know Thor.”

“Spider-man probably knows Thor,” Karen said, and Foggy shushed her. “What?”

“Avengers sex-ception. Who you’re not actually supposed to meet. It’s just a fantasy thing.”

“They’re real people!” Theo protested. “Beautiful people. Karen, who’s yours? Can I ask?”

“You shouldn’t, but I’m going to give you a pass,” Karen said. “I don’t have one.”

“Oh bullshit!” Foggy and Theo managed to say at almost exactly the same time and with the same inflection.

“I don’t!” Karen crossed her arms. “Between the guy with several sexual harassment lawsuits in his past, the guys who are 20 years older than me, and the guys with dumb blond jock bodies like every frat douche I knew in college, who am I supposed to pick? The robot? He looks like he’s covered in grease paint. No. No thank you. None for me.”

“Hate to say it,” Foggy said to Theo, “but I think Karen might have more integrity than everyone here combined.” 

“I think Thor is more of a surfer dude than a jock,” Theo said, still lost in la-la land. “I mean yeah, you can’t have that body and not work out, but surfing is a workout, right?”

“I cannot fault that logic,” Foggy said, finally a little amused.

At the end of the workday, Theo was sobering up, but did not seem interested in staying that way. 

“Promise me you won’t go home and drink yourself into a coma,” Foggy said. “Because I might have reservations and I’ve asked enough of Karen.”

“Fuck you! I can entertain myself,” Theo said. He had his phone open. “I can’t go to a club - I mean, I shouldn’t go to a club, I’ll - Luke! I could go to Luke’s club.”

“What?”

“He said I could be on the guest list whenever.”

“When did he say this?”

Theo snorted. “You think you’re so cool, with your branded vodka parties for work, but I have known Luke for  _ way _ longer than you have. Remember that bar he had in Hell’s Kitchen for about ten minutes?”

“He did?”

“Yeah, before it got blown up for some reason. That’s - sort of how I know him. I mean, we met in the bar. We just didn’t stay there very long.”

This took Foggy a minute. He stared at Theo, at his half-crooked smile, and said, “No fucking way.”

“Yes fucking way. But don’t um, spread it around? Because I shouldn’t have said anything. I don’t know what it is with me today.”

“There’s the fact that you’ve spent the last eight hours imbibing alcohol like you were poisoned and it was the cure.” But Luke, man - really? What the fuck? It seemed like Theo had been better at this double life thing that Matt could ever hope to be.

“I just didn’t say anything when you said you had him as a client because I didn’t want to rain on your lawyer parade. That’s how good of a brother I am,” Theo said proudly. 

“Yeah, thanks for that.”

Theo heading up to get wasted at a sketchy nightclub in Harlem did not sound like Foggy’s idea of a fun, safe time, but he could trust Luke - couldn’t he?


	2. Luke's Pretty Fine Evening, When it Comes Right Down to It

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This section starts about a month before the start of Jessica Jones season 1.

Luke had his one encounter with Theo - or Ted, as he was exclusively known then - at a very vulnerable moment of his life. His cockroach-ridden apartment with Reva had been even more horrible now that she was gone and the impossible little insects were joined by awful memories. It was also the first time since prison that he was truly alone - not surrounded by people whether he liked them or not - and he was lonely. Since he couldn’t use his real name, and had no paperwork for the new one, he couldn’t get close to his regulars at the bar, and he didn’t venture out otherwise, unused to the freedom. So he started cruising sites, very hesitantly at first, for a little anonymous company. He didn’t intend to actually go through with it until someone messaged him. The guy’s profile made it clear that he was good at expressing what he wanted and not looking for anything with strings attached, and while he was trying to look tough in his photo, he actually looked kind of scute. Luke offered to buy him a drink.

The public place they met at was Luke’s bar - he was finishing up for the night, his few regulars aware that if they didn’t pay attention to last call, he was more than capable of tossing them out. Ted showed up exactly on time. He wore a nice shirt on over work clothes and an inexpensive jacket, and he looked almost exactly like his picture (he was scruffier in real life), which Luke had to give him credit for. 

At first, he looked terrified. “Shit, you are really tall.” His local accent was thick and he stared at Luke, but he took a seat at the bar anyway. “I’m Ted.”

“Luke,” he said. They didn’t shake hands; Luke was busy cleaning the bar. “You want something? You don’t have to, but it’s on the house.”

“You’re the house? I heard this place had a new owner but I didn’t know who it was.”

“Everything is in my wife’s name,” Luke said, and Ted looked surprised - or disappointed - until Luke added, “She died. Hit by a bus three months ago.”

“Fuck,” Ted said. “I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault.”

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Ted actually sounded concerned for Luke’s emotional state. 

“Yes. But, if you don’t mind, can we not discuss her?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“What do you want?”

“Whiskey. Doesn’t have to be expensive.”

Luke served him a glass with two shots in it, and looked at Ted’s hands as he took it. Curled around the glass, Luke could see they were calloused and scarred, but not in a serious way. There was a burn between his thumb and his forefinger that was almost done healing. Blue collar worker, then, probably in construction or food production. Luke could have just asked this stuff, but learning about each other wasn’t what this was about. Ted asked if he was new to the city (yes) but not where he was from. Did he like it? (Wasn’t a fan of the cold weather.) Ted admitted to being there his whole life. 

This neutral conversation continued long enough for Luke to finish at the bar and Ted to finish his drink. 

“My place has bugs,” Luke said. He was really not interested in a quickie in an alley. “Not bed bugs. Roaches.”

“My place is nearby,” Ted said. They were negotiating who was willing to let a scary stranger into his home, and who was willing to enter the home of a scary stranger. “But you can’t stay the whole night. I’m not out, and my neighbors are nosy.” He sounded apologetic about it, but those were the terms.

“That’s fine.”

“And I should just say this on my profile, but I have a cat. You probably won’t see her, but if you have allergies, you should know. It’s not a big place.”

“No allergies.” 

Ted tried to at least put a tip down on the table but Luke wouldn’t let him. He suspected this guy didn’t have a lot of money anyway. 

He wasn’t kidding about being nearby; he was literally a block over. The building was old and the elevator was out, but it wasn’t a dump like Luke’s place. Luke couldn’t help but notice that there was no ‘Ted’ next to any call buttons, but he supposed that was fair. 

“This is me,” Ted said as he opened the door to an average-sized studio, which for New York meant very small. It was Pre-War, which meant high ceilings but weird dimensions to the rooms because they had been cut up from larger apartments. It hadn’t been renovated in at least twenty years, but it had been carefully kept up. Ted had been there for awhile, from the way he was settled in. His furniture was old-fashioned and had been through several repairs and repaintings - inherited, probably. And despite this being an apartment where a person lived alone and had no problem bringing home dates, there wasn’t a single thing pointing to his orientation in view. He was pretty deep in that closet. 

Luke told himself that he was no longer a detective, and to stop prying. He had specifically looked for a guy on a service where prying was not a thing you did, and he wouldn’t stand up to any barrage of questioning. Besides, he could empathize with hiding who or what you were right now.

It was more awkward for Luke than for Ted, who was experienced in this sort of encounter. He got limits out of the way quickly and he had whatever they needed in the dresser. He still seemed terrified of Luke’s general physical presence, since Luke had muscles and about a foot on him (and was black, but Luke couldn’t assume that was an issue), but he swallowed that. He was more interested in other things when he touched him.

“It’s a skin condition,” Luke said to his unasked question. “I’m still getting used to it.” He tapped on his chest. “You can punch me if you want.”

Ted’s eyes went wide and he said, “I don’t want to punch you.” 

“You can. I won’t feel it. But you’ll probably break your hand.”

“You make yourself sound like a circus freak,” Ted said. “Don’t do that to yourself.”

That was sweet. Ted had sort of a rough exterior, probably due to factors like his work culture and his home life, but he was a big softie on the inside of that tiny body. He had muscles, but the kind you got from carrying things around, or standing on your feet all day, not working out, or kicking the shit out of people because that’s what you had to do to stay alive. He wouldn’t last a day in prison.

After, Ted didn’t kick him out like Luke thought he would. He got up, put on a robe, and said, “Do you want something to drink? Water? Gatorade? Beer?”

Sure, why the hell not? He couldn’t drink at work - had to be on his toes. “What you got?”

“Blue Moon?”

“Beer me.” Luke sat up and held open his fist and Ted filled it with a bottle as he climbed back into bed.

“I also have weed, if you want it. They got some fancy shit vaporizers now.”

He shook his head. “Seen enough of that in my lifetime.” Meaning, in evidence bags, but that wasn’t the point.

“Cool,” Ted replied, meaning more like, ‘Okay.’ He brought his own beer in bed and they drank in silence. For once, the city was quiet except for the occasional ambulance siren. 

Luke couldn’t help himself. He looked at the walls, full of photos from what looked like family events with the ages and gender ranges. There were a bunch of weird trophies on a high shelf, and a diploma for a Bachelor’s of Science from Brooklyn College. The only other thing in an expensive frame was a collage of two tickets (one adult, one child under 12) and two badges on lanyards from a Stark Expo at the Javitz Center, 1992. Between that and the Popular Science magazines piled up on the dresser, Ted must have had aspirations. Luke wondered if his current job reflected them, or if not, what happened to them. And that was definitely not a question to ask.

Ted didn’t want him to leave just yet - they shared a second beer before they were up for another round. It was nice. It was better than prison sex - a low bar indeed - because Ted was experienced and seemed to want this to be a  _ little _ bit more than a quickie with a stranger. They sat in bed, savoring the afterglow, before Luke sensed it was time to go.

The last part, he didn’t know the procedure for. But Ted did. “If you ever want to do this again - if my profile’s up, I’d probably be interested.”

“Same. But just so you know, it’s usually not up,” Luke said. He felt like that was fair warning - he wasn’t over Reva and he didn’t know how long this thing in Hell’s Kitchen would last before he might have to move on. “But I had a nice time.”

“Me, too.” 

Luke left, and didn’t think about it too much after that. It was just a nice memory in what was a hellish time for him, and it drifted into the background until the day he walked into Nelson’s Fine Meats looking to meet up with Matt. It took him a moment to recognize him - Ted’s hair was longer, and it had been a few years - and Ted was polite enough to be prepared to pretend he didn’t know him if Luke chose not to acknowledge him, which he did. And their brief exchange probably would have been it - even though Luke was serious about that offer about coming to the club - had Matt not said a few hours later, “So I hear you know my boyfriend.”

They were standing on a rooftop, having just abandoned the alley full of unconscious gang members for the police to find. Matt had just gotten off the phone with someone, and he was still wearing his mask.

“Your boyfriend?”

“Theo.”

“Theo?” It took him a moment. “Oh. Right. He told you?”

“I have a way of figuring things out,” Matt explained. “This is a source of frustration for him.”

“Yeah, he can get in line about that.”

Matt grinned his mischievous grin and said, “You want to come back to my place? It’s not really ‘our’ place. Theo doesn’t live with me.”

“For what?”

“I’ve heard you call it coffee.”

Luke’s first reaction was to deck him, though he wasn’t sure why. Sometimes he just had the urge to deck Matt, though he was sure he would dodge. “You asshole.”

“Didn’t answer my question.”

“How are you going to propose this to him?”

“Already did. He said yes.” He added, “He’s on his way to my place, actually.”

“And how do you know  _ I’ll _ say yes?”

“It’s better not to ask that question.”

Damnit, he was right. Matt was an asshole, but he was always right. It was really a problem. And Luke was curious - about a lot of different things, but mostly to see how Matt was treating Ted. Or Theo. Whatever. 

It turned out Theo had known Matt for over a decade, and Matt treated him very well. Sketchy, violent, impulsive behavior didn’t necessary translate to being a bad boyfriend. Luke didn’t want to think of himself as a  _ gift _ to Theo - he didn’t want to think of himself as a  _ thing _ , ever - but he had a feeling Matt, who wasn’t exactly uninterested in Luke but had shown absolutely no signs of it before, was mainly doing this to impress his boyfriend, not spice up their sex life. And a threesome wasn’t the worst gift in the world - Luke had tried to talk Claire into it, with absolutely no success. Matt was a much smoother operator. Luke left the door open to the possibility of doing this again, but not on a regular basis - he didn’t want to be a third wheel.

The club was really taking over his life, anyway. It wasn’t his only reason for avoiding Claire, but it was definitely one of them. The only people he saw on a regular basis were Misty - checking up on him, and not always in a good way - and Danny, that wandering soul who just liked having friends and was often oblivious to whatever they might be doing the moment he walked in. He only left Harlem when he was needed for something, and Matt or Danny usually made the call, because Jessica and him hadn’t settled anything and he didn’t want to reopen that wound. They weren’t good at small talk.

So when Luke looked at his phone and saw Theo was calling - he was still ‘Ted’ in Luke’s phone - he was glad for the momentary break from his management duties. “Hey. What’s up?”

“I have decided that I am too sober,” Theo said, “and you own a club that is licensed to serve alcohol.”

It was Saturday night, and the club was just gearing up. The headliners wouldn’t be out for another two hours, and he had meetings before then, and he had absolutely no idea why Theo was actually calling, but he shoved all that to the side and said, “How do you feel about rum?”

“Pretty good, I guess. I’m used to it with coke, but I probably shouldn’t do that because I’m not fourteen anymore.”

“I got all this Jamaican rum I don’t know what to do with,” Luke explained, glancing at the bottles on the shelf in his office. “Not really my taste. They’re yours as long as you promise to take a cab home.”

“You think I can’t hold my liquor?”

“I think you know why you shouldn’t be walking around drunk in Harlem late at night,” he said. “There’s a dress code. Jacket and tie.”

“I own clothing!” Theo said. Clearly he had been accused of wardrobe-related problems before. “I know how to dress for a club.”

“This probably isn’t that kind of club.”

“Thank G-d, I don’t think I could handle EDM right now.”

Luke smiled. “You’ll be on the VIP list. I’m not super available to hang, but I can make some time.”

“Luke, you’re awesome. You’re the best.”

“And try to make it a nice tie,” Luke said, and hung up. He didn’t want Theo to stick out more than he already would. He turned around, and Sugar was awaiting his orders at the door. “Put a Theo Nelson on the guest list. Itty-bitty white guy, long hair. Bring him right up, and if I’m in a meeting, take him to the VIP lounge but don’t give him anything heavy to drink. And stay on him. He’s a friend and he’s not used to this kind of place.”

“Sure, boss.” Sugar put it into the club app on his phone. He hesitated at the door, like something was on his mind.

“Say your piece.”

“Um, can I choose another book for the month?” Sugar asked. “I just can’t finish this one.”

“What did you pick?”

“ _ Pimp _ by Iceberg Slim,” Sugar said. “It’s just so - he’s just hating on these hoes. All women, really. It’s problematic.”

“He’s a misogynist,” Luke said, only vaguely familiar with the work. “Why did you think it was a good idea to pick a book about a pimp?”

Sugar shrugged. “Amazon said it was a timeless piece of American literature!”

Luke rolled his eyes. “Fine. Look, the month’s almost up, so you don’t have to finish it, but you don’t have to find something else. I’ll send a list around of recommendations for next month. Try to pick something from that.” 

Sugar looked relieved. “Thanks, boss.”

The second call came half an hour later, from Foggy Nelson - who was just ‘lawyer’ on Luke’s phone. They did not have a lot of casual chats. “What’s up?”

“As I understand it, my brother is going up to Harlem tonight,” Foggy said. “I was wondering if you could do me a favor.”

“I don’t know what you think goes on here, but he’s an adult. Which one of you is older?”

“He is. But he did me some solids by listening to me bitch about my exes, or one ex several times - so, yeah. I’m not proud of what I’m about to say, but -“ Foggy swallowed on the other end of the line. Whatever it was, he needed to build himself up to it. “Please do not sleep with my brother tonight.”

“ _ What? _ ”

“He had a fight with Matt,” Foggy explained. “I’m not sure if they’re broken up. It’s really not clear. What is clear is that he’s in an emotionally vulnerable place, which is why he drank himself out of booze today and needs to go all the way to you to find more. I didn’t think you were going to, but, um, don’t, okay?”

“You are lucky that you got me out of prison,” Luke said, “and that I can’t punch people through the phone.”

“I’m not making  _ any _ judgments about  _ anybody _ ,” Foggy insisted, “but I need you to promise me.”

“How do you even know?”

“Like I said - he was very drunk. And don’t ask him what happened. I did, and I totally regret it. TMI. They gotta work it out for themselves. You wanna get involved with that, that’s your own business. But promise me that you will not do the one thing I just asked you not to do tonight, and I promise in return that I will pretend we never had this discussion.”

“Client confidentiality?”

“So much more than that. We’re blood brothers. I mean, you and I. Vaguely. In the sense that we were both in the same room where people got shot and bled. Is that enough? Oh G-d, did I just say something horrible?”

Foggy was now flailing around in the conversation and Luke, against his better judgment, found it amusing. Foggy cared enough about Theo to thoroughly embarrass himself to a client. Luke decided not to extend his suffering. “Fine. I promise.”

“LukethankssomuchIoweyouforthisonebye!” Foggy could not wait to get off the phone. At least he didn’t linger.

Luke got caught up in meetings again - people started coming by to complain about this or that person hustling on on their turf, or some other nonsense they thought he could magically fix - and he wasn’t sure how long it was before he had a moment to himself and one of the downstairs bouncers, the one who thought he could just read  _ I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings _ every month and think no one would notice, brought Theo in. 

“Hey! Good to see you!” Theo was enthusiastic when they hugged. He was wearing what was clearly a Sunday suit, which didn’t mean the bottom wasn’t a little stained and frayed, and the shirt underneath it was a flashy club shirt that did not match at all, and neither did the tie. But good on him. He looked around. “This is a really nice place.” He gestured to the Biggie picture. “This all yours?”

“The previous owner left to me.”

“You’ve really come up in the world.” Theo was stunned by his surroundings, and Luke supposed it wasn’t very much Luke’s style - he’d changed almost nothing about Mariah’s setup. “This looks more like an office than Danny’s.”

“Yeah, well, I’m sure Danny’s office looked more appropriate to a corporate guy before Danny moved in,” Luke said. “I haven’t had to switch much of it up.” The only thing that was really his was the stack of paperbacks in the corner, almost entirely out of sight. “Liquor’s not even mine. But I don’t drink much.” He took down the rum. There was always fresh ice even though it usually just slowly melted throughout the night. There was a bronze Buddha between the bottle of Patron and the wines. “That’s from Danny. Housewarming present.” He poured just a little rum for himself - for the ceremony of it - and a fuller glass for Theo. 

“Thanks,” Theo said, and they clinked their glasses together.

Luke let Theo take a full swallow before he said, “Foggy called me.”

“Why does he think I need a babysitter? I used to babysit  _ him _ ,” Theo said. “He was awful. Whatever I would lock him into, he would get out the moment my back was turned.” He added, “I probably shouldn’t have said I trapped by brother behind a bunch of plastic gates. He was definitely more interested in getting exercise as a toddler than he is now. So what did my fucking brother say?”

“That I definitely shouldn’t ask too many questions.”

Theo took another hungry gulp and said, “He’s such a fucking pussy.”

But since Theo didn’t have a mean bone in his body, Luke just had to chuckle at that. “He said you might be in an emotionally vulnerable state.”

“I have handled all of my shit without him even knowing about it for like, my whole life,” Theo said. “I come out and suddenly he’s all involved. Asking questions and then complaining about the answers.” 

“I think he’s trying to be a good brother. Sometimes it’s not very easy to do.”

Theo reluctantly nodded. “You have siblings?”

“Half-brother. My dad cheated on my mom with his secretary. So my brother decided to try to kill me for it.”

“Oh, fuck, I forget everyone around me has the most depressing backstory ever,” Theo said. “If Matt said he had an evil twin brother who tried to destroy the world I would just believe him at this point. I’m sorry.”

“It wasn’t all bad. We got along as kids.”

Theo refilled his glass. Luke certainly wasn’t about to stop him. “I’ve never had a family member try to kill me. One did call me a fag, but Matt punched him. So, pretty normal Nelson family event.” 

“They know you’re together? Or, were together?”

Theo shook his head fiercely. “Matt’s a member of the family. Neither of us want to deal with all that gossip yet. Or ever. We’re not broken up, I guess - I think I get to decide that.” He sipped this time, the bottle in one hand and the glass in the other. “I’m not even still mad. I just - I don’t know what I want. Except not to, you know, be sad for a few hours.”

“You know alcohol’s a depressant, right?”

“I was hoping jazz’s uplifting lyrics would elevate my mood.” He looked at the bottle. “This is really good. Did you get it from someone who also tried to kill you?”

“Yes.”

Theo stared at him for long enough to determine that he was telling the truth, then burst into laughter. 

Having a guest like Theo meant Luke had an excuse to relax. The acoustics were great in his office, and he liked the singer tonight, even though he usually booked people based on popularity and requests, not his own personal taste. He had to say hello to the people in the VIP lounge, and run some interference with the different staff members, and deal with one hissy fit from the kitchen, during which Theo stayed on the couch. One Luke returned to find him trying to read the dog-eared copy of  _ Invisible Man _ . He was frowning intensely, probably because he couldn’t focus his eyes. “This is not how I remembered the story going. Doesn’t he just run around looking for clothing?”

“He doesn’t actually turn invisible in the Ellison book. It’s a metaphor for race blindness.”

Theo let the book fall onto his chest. 

There was more coming and going from the VIP lounge, and Theo eventually wandered in there, and Luke sweared, his back was turned for two seconds and when he looked around, Theo was nursing the end of the bottle and talking to Shades Alvarez of all the fucking people.

“So how do you know Luke?” Alvarez said in that lizard-smooth way of his.

“We go back,” Theo replied. “You?”

“We did time together.”

“Oh. Well, we don’t go  _ that _ far back,” Theo said, completely amiably like the dork that he was. “Hey, how do you get your hair like that?”

“Like what?”

“How do you part a crew cut?”

Shades looked amused. Luke got up in his face. “Who let you in?”

“Believe it or not, some of my former employees still view me favorably,” Alvarez said. “Apparently I was a good manager.”

“No, I mean how are you out of prison?”

“Technicalities,” he said with a shrug. “The law’s full of them.” He nudged Theo. “I used to run this place with the former owner. Both former owners.”

“He also tried to kill me,” Luke said, hoping Theo would get the message. 

But no, he was far to nice and far too drunk for that. Completely unphased, Theo looked straight at Alvarez. “Why are you guys all trying to kill him? He’s a nice guy.”

“I don’t know if you pay attention to the news, but sometimes, he’s not so nice,” was Alvarez’s very diplomatic answer.

“Well, he’s nice to me,” Theo announced. “So clearly you guys are doing something wrong.” 

With that, Theo turned and walked off, possibly to look for a new bottle, for which Luke was very grateful. 

“I suppose you can remember where the door is,” he told Alvarez as soon as Theo was out of earshot. “Don’t let it hit you on the way out.”

“Someday, you’re gonna need me,” Alvarez said. “People here always do.”

But he left, thank G-d. 

Theo ended up lying down on the couch in the office, cradling an empty bottle of rum. He at least seemed happy, so Luke didn’t disturb what appeared to be a drunken nap when Misty came in, moving faster than Sugar could announce the presence of ‘Officer Knight.’ 

Only Misty could pull off an evening dress and a robot arm that somehow matched.

“Is that arm bling?” Luke said. It wasn’t gold - probably brass - but there was a hell of a lot of flair.

“Girl’s gotta know how to accessorize,” Misty said. She did not give a pretense for her visit. “I see Shades is back in town.”

“I thought you put him away.”

“He has money stashed somewhere, because Ben Donovan appealed, got his whole plea deal thrown out. We’ve got the information, but no way to pin it on him - yet.” 

“Fisk’s lawyer?”

“He’s good. Too good,” she said. “I’m not saying get close to Alvarez, but if it happens, it might be a help.”

“I want him put away as much as you do,” Luke said, glad that they were on the same side for the first time in what seemed like too long. He really didn’t care for the suspicious glares she was always giving him these days. 

“I also heard you got a visit from someone called ‘the Butcher,’” she said. “Hell of a nickname, don’t you think?”

Luke frowned, sifting through all of the new crews he knew in his brain, before making the connection. “You mean him?” He walked over to Theo and gently roused him with a shake. “Have you been telling people you’re a butcher?”

Theo wiped his eyes. “I am a butcher.”

“So people asked what you do, and that’s what you told them?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

Luke laughed. He got even more amusement from Misty’s confounded expression. “This is Theo. He’s a butcher - the kind that cuts up meat? He owns a deli in Hell’s Kitchen.”

“Technically, I only have a 48% share,” Theo said, sitting himself up with great difficulty, his head bowed. “My parents have better credit. Plus transfer of ownership takes time. All kinds of paperwork involved that I haven’t even started yet.” He looked up at Misty. “Is it cyberpunk night? I don’t have any good costuming.”

“This is Detective Knight,” Luke said between laughter. “She’s with the NYPD.”

“Oh,” Theo said. Again, things were not leaving the station quickly in his brain. “ _ Oh _ . Matt said you had a robot arm, because he clearly does not understand the different between robots and cyborgs.” He gave Misty - or just her arm - a once over. “It looks awesome.”

“It’s a prosthetic. Courtesy of Rand.”

“Shit, really? Rand is doing such cool stuff!” Theo was increasingly excited. “Medical cybernetics is like, the best field right now.”

“You could ask Danny to hire you,” Luke said.

“Naw, my technical certifications are way out of date. I would basically have to go back to school,” he said. He took a swig of the very small amount of rum left at the bottom of the bottle and continued to stare at Misty. “I’m not going to ask to see it because I know it’s a part of you and that’s inappropriate. But otherwise I would. It’s  _ so cool _ . You are so cool.”

Misty must have realized she had to humor this poor guy. “Losing an arm wasn’t so cool.”

“Shit, no, I’m sorry about that. I’ve almost lost limbs a bunch of times, but that’s why we have all these safety procedures in the kitchen,” Theo said. “Um, thank you for your service?”

Now Misty was actually smiling. “How do you know Danny Rand?”

“I’m taking a cooking class with him. He wants me to figure out how to make the dishes he grew up with in the dragon dimension. And I’m like, whatever, okay, if you pay for the classes and keep buying overpriced yak meat. And then he goes to class with me. He can make like, the perfect momo. He could be a great chef of that one specific thing.”

Misty turned to Luke. “How do you know this guy?”

“He’s my lawyer’s brother,” Luke said. Which was technically true.

“Nelson? They guy who drove all the way to Georgia for you?”

“Bullshit!” Theo said. “He flew on the firm’s dime. Told me all about the hot towel massage they gave him in first class.”

“That I can believe,” Luke said, and looked pointedly at Misty.

“Okay, so someone’s reputation may have been mistakenly exaggerated,” Misty admitted. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Nelson.”

“You are the coolest cop I know, Detective Knight,” Theo said. “And if you know Detective Mahoney, please don’t tell him I said that.”

“Fifteenth precinct?”

“Shit, you do know him.”

“Of him. Relax, Mr. Nelson.” She turned back to Luke. “Don’t think you’re off the hook.”

“For what?”

“I’ll figure it out,” she said, and took her leave.

There was silence, then the sound of Theo finishing off the bottle. “Hey, Luke, are you some kind of crime boss?”

“Why does everyone keep saying that?”

Theo shrugged. “Dunno. You got guys calling you boss, you got sketchy people - “

“Not all of them are sketchy.”

“ - wanting to meet with you as if you’re the Godfather or something. And you dress like a boss. And don’t think I didn’t notice the Biggie painting. I mean, no judgment here. I won’t say anything.”

“No, Theo,” he said. “I am not running a criminal empire from a historical jazz club.”

“Just sayin.’”

“Well, don’t say.”

Theo didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t push the issue. 

By the end of the night, Theo had been through two-and-a-half bottles of rum and somehow not died.

“You should see me on St. Paddy’s day,” he said proudly.

Luke gave him another two bottles for the road - and to get the Jamaican stuff out of his office - and said, “Promise to save them for a special occasion. Or just not drink them tonight. My guy’s gonna give you a lift home, okay? You don’t have to tip him.”

“You have your own driver?” Theo shook his head. “Definitely a mob boss.”

“I’m just trying to keep my piece of Harlem safe.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” he said with a deeply amused (and somewhat inebriated) smile. “Thanks for the booze. And letting me sleep on your gangster couch.”

“It came with the room.” Luke put a hand on Theo’s shoulder, partially to steady him. “Look, whatever’s going on with Matt - you work it out, or if he can’t get his shit together, you dump his ass and never look back.”

“I didn’t tell you what happened.”

“Yeah, but I know it’s definitely Murdock’s fault and that’s all I really need to know. You do what’s best for you, okay? The rest of us will just deal with it.” 

Theo paused. He did seem to be thinking it over. “If we don’t make up, are you going to come by my work and tell me about how you’ve changed and Harlem’s Paradise is going to be legitimate in five years?”

“I did not know how much you loved that movie.”

“It’s on TBS every Thanksgiving. On loop! Just parts one and two though. TBS knows what it’s doing.” He calmed down a little. “Thank you. For everything.”

“Anytime,” Luke said, and meant it.

  
  


Theo was not a dumbass. He did not drink the rest of the rum when he got home, storing it instead. He did not go straight to sleep despite the hour, knowing that falling asleep while drunk was a recipe for disaster. He chugged half a gallon of juice and smoked a little weed to take the edge off his eventual hangover headache, then climbed into bed with his laptop and scrolled Netflix for a movie before settling on that stupid show about fancy hotels, and spent the next hour or so wondering what he would have to do to get a job as a person who reported on how nice it was to spend a night in a fancy hotel as part of a TV show that was also an ad for the hotel. He was watching one of the hosts learn to make thousands and thousands of wontons for a hotel in Singapore with a ship on its roof for no reason when Sadie climbed on his stomach and obstructed most of his view, but he didn’t have it in him to push her off.

He fell asleep on his side, hugging his cat, and when she left for higher ground, his pillow. Facing the morning wasn’t so bad because he did it exceptionally late, waking around noon. Since his Sunday schedule was unusually open (thanks, Matt), he spent most of it playing video games on his ancient Wii, promising himself his next laptop would be a gaming laptop. Maybe Alienware needed some legal work. 

He knew who was knocking at the door without checking. Or, he didn’t care. He hadn’t mentally prepared himself like he should have, but he was trying not to get himself too worked up. Sadie nipped at his heels protectively as he opened the door.

Matt had flowers - in a vase. “Hi.”

“Sadie’s going to destroy these.”

Matt held them up. “That’s why the vase is plastic. Can I come in?”

He didn’t sound like his usual confident self. Did the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen get scared? Was that even possible? He was hiding behind his glasses, so Theo decided, definitely. 

“Yeah,” Theo said, stepping out of his way. “It’s um, a nice bouquet. A mix of stuff.”

“I know them by smell, but I don’t remember what colors each of them are,” Matt admitted. He rarely admitted to anything about his sight - or his memories of sight. “Karen helped me.”

“Karen’s got your back.”

“Yeah, she said that.” Matt put the vase in the sink for the time being. “Karen can handle a lot.”

“I’m starting to get that.”

With his cane against the wall in the corner, Matt didn’t know what to do with his hands. “So, I’m sorry. About the other night and about - a lot of other stuff.”

Theo didn’t want to be mean, but he also didn’t want to beg for Matt to come back to him, because he didn’t want a repeat of this exact fight a month or six months from now. “There’s a lot of other stuff?”

“Not really. I mean, look - I’ll say what I have to say, and you’ll listen, and then you can decide what you want to do. About us.”

That didn’t sound promising but Theo could understand how hard Matt was trying. How he understood that this wasn’t a sure thing. “Okay.” He didn’t offer him a drink, but he did offer him a chair. Matt sat down, but Theo stayed standing, leaning against the wall, his body on high alert.

“When I started putting on the mask, I thought I could keep that part of my life separate from everything else. During the day I would be Matt Murdock and at night I would be the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen. And, obviously, that didn’t work. Everything just spilled over ... mostly from the Daredevil side onto the other side. Onto Karen and Foggy. Mostly Foggy, because he found out sooner. That part of me - it destroyed everything. My life, my friendships, my relationship with Karen, my firm - “

“Yeah, I remember that part pretty distinctly, since it was televised.”

Matt frowned. “And after Midland Circle, I thought, since I was better at being the Devil, I’d just be the Devil. Twenty-four seven. But I couldn’t do that, either. I couldn’t take down Fisk and I couldn’t protect people even if I pushed them away from me and even if they stayed away from me. It was all ... Danny would say, interconnected. You’re the first person I’ve been with who has known about every part - more or less. And you’re the first person to support every part of me. Except, you know, the part that you don’t.”

“If masochism is your thing, it’s your thing,” Theo said. “I just can’t be a part of it.”

“It doesn’t - have to be sexual. I can’t really define it, but I think it’s that in a fight, you’re supposed to let the other guy hit you. You block and everything, if you’re really good, but when you get in the ring, you’re allowing yourself to be hit. You’ve agreed to the terms. It’s what makes the fight fair. So if people hit me back, while I don’t want them to win, but it makes sense. It makes it  _ feel _ fair, even if that doesn’t make much sense, and doesn’t say much for my sense of self-preservation. And yeah, that bleeds - literally, I guess - into other stuff when it shouldn’t. I’m not perfect. I can’t make myself into different people, even though I really want to. I can just try and try and sometimes I’ll lose. I thought about coming in here and promising you perfection, but I know I’d be lying. And I’ve done enough of that.”

Theo swallowed. “What else have you been lying about?”

“Um, more like, not telling the whole truth, because it hurts to be honest all the time,” Matt said. “I like you so much that I have wanted to bolt from this relationship since - I don’t know. Christmas? New Year’s? So I can protect you from me. Because I knew if I stay with you, I was going to hurt you somehow, and you don’t deserve that.”

“That’s pretty fucked up, Matt.”

“There’s a lot of things I’m good at, but relationships are not, um, one of them.” Matt smiled just a little bit, at the madness that was him. “It’s easier when it’s just sex.”

Theo knew all about that. But he didn’t have to say it.

“The only person I’ve really loved - I mean, loved so much I couldn’t stand to be apart from, loved so much I could imagine spending the rest of my life with - is Elektra. And she died on me. Twice. She died in my arms and it hurt and it hurt and it hasn’t stopped hurting since I woke up in the church. She destroyed my life and her life and she was everything to me and I think about her every damn day, and I don’t talk about it with anyone, because no one knew her, or if they knew her, they hated her. And I think if she walked in the door right now I might leave with her, even though it would be a disaster that I would regret for the rest of my life. That’s the kind of love I’ve had, and it’s so terrible for me and I can see that but I just can’t  _ stop _ . And it makes me feel even worse because you are so much better than her and you’re  _ right here _ even though I don’t even begin to deserve you.”

“Matt - “

“So that’s what I’ve been carrying around. Everything with the mask and being a lawyer and being someone who wants to hurt people and maybe feel it when I fight and have a mom I can barely talk to and friends who yell at me for good reasons and are justified in their frustrations and sometimes everything hurts so much, and I don’t tell anyone because I don’t think they should have to deal with  _ my _ problems. It’s a lot. No one else should have to deal with it. And if you don’t want to deal with it, fine. I mean, I’ll be sad, but I’ll manage somehow. You do what’s right for you, because I don’t like hurting you. I can’t stand that I hurt you.”

There was a moment, and then, “That’s it? No more major revelations for me? Do you have a dead wife stored in your attic? Are you also the Hulk?”

“I’ve been told I have an anger problem.”

“You asshole,” Theo responded, and it felt good. G-d, he’d missed Matt. “For the record, while I don’t love being compared to your ex - that doesn’t mean I want you to keep that all inside as some kind of favor to me. I can handle it.” He added, “I want to handle it.”

“Are you sure?”

“No, I’m not fuckin’ sure! I’m not fuckin’ sure about anything,” Theo said. “But I want to try. You’re an asshole, Matt, but you’re  _ my _ asshole. At least unless you pull this shit again. Now tell me all about your ex.”

Matt raised his eyebrows. “What?”

“The one you’re still grieving. Because you said you’re carrying all this fuckin’ pain around and it’s making you miserable,” Theo said. “So, I’m gonna be here for that. I don’t want you to have to pretend not to be miserable. I want you to not be miserable. At least around me.” He got up and got two beers from the fridge, then took the seat across from Matt at his tiny table. Sadie moved from her position between his feet to the windowsill, where she could nap in the sun now that nothing interesting was happening between the humans in the room. “Start at the beginning.”

“Well,” Matt said, and stuttered a bit as he took his beer, trying to gauge how serious Theo was. But Theo was very serious, and Matt was good at reading moods, so he finally continued, “Foggy and I decided to crash this party uptown ... “

They were going to need a lot of beers, but they were going to be okay.

The End


End file.
